Night Prowler - Part 1
by deadeb03
Summary: Vegeta's been sneaking out at night. Bulma wants to know why ... or does she?
Night Prowler – Part 1

"Vegeta, where do you disappear to all the time?" Bulma asked sleepily as her husband slid beneath the sheets next to her.

"Does it matter?" he answered vaguely and settled himself on his back with his hands behind his head.

"Not really," she murmured, snuggling closer to Vegeta's body heat. He looked down at her, but she was already slipping back into sleep.

Vegeta sighed contentedly and smiled up at the ceiling. As his eyes closed, his tongue darted out and licked at the corners of his mouth.

* * *

"You don't think he's having an affair, do you?" ChiChi asked over her cup of tea.

"Vegeta? Not a chance!" Bulma insisted with a laugh.

The two women had just finished a fruitful day of shopping and were resting their tired feet under the palm trees outside a cafe. Boxes and bags surrounded their table. The sun was nearing the horizon, but neither were ready to return home yet.

"But you said he always returns in a better mood," ChiChi reminded her. "Doesn't that sound fishy to you?"

Bulma considered the possibility as she took a sip of the hot liquid in her cup. Then she resolutely shook her head.

"I think I'd be able to tell if he'd been with another woman."

"Can you smell any perfume on him or his clothes?" ChiChi asked, not willing to drop the subject. "Or have you noticed any lipstick marks that weren't yours?"

"No," Bulma answered, thinking back to the last few times Vegeta had done his disappearing act. "He doesn't smell like perfume, but..."

"But what?" ChiChi demanded when Bulma paused.

"I have smelled something I just can't place. And there was a spot on his shirt once."

"Lipstick?"

"No..." Bulma trailed off, not knowing how to explain it. "It wasn't oily like lipstick. It was almost like an ink stain or something."

"Ink?" ChiChi said, surprised.

"That's kind of what it looked like. But when I asked him about it, he said he didn't know how it got there."

"Typical!" ChiChi said and set her cup down nearly hard enough to break the delicate china plate. "Mark my words, Bulma, Vegeta is up to no good!"

* * *

Bulma spent the next week regretting she'd mentioned Vegeta's odd behavior to her friend. Now she had nagging doubts floating around her head.

Could Vegeta really have been having an affair these past few months?

She thought back to his first nighttime excursion. He'd been in a foul mood for a long time and began to worry about him. He never seemed to have an appetite even though he spent nearly the entire day training in the gravity chamber. His skin had gone pale from lack of sun and his eyes seemed sunken and sad. At night, he paced the house, only going to bed after Bulma had fallen asleep.

At first, Bulma worried he was regretting his decision to stay on Earth. Then she thought she was the cause of his unhappiness. She tried everything she could think of to distract and entice him.

She made a special, romantic dinner for the two of them under the stars, but he could only pick at his food and grunt at her attempt at conversation. Afterward, he went back to training until the early morning hours, only to sleep the entire next day. When he finally woke, she asked if he was feeling sick. He just shrugged and went about wandering the house.

Thinking he was lonely for his other fighting companions, Bulma arranged for a small party. She invited all the warriors Vegeta fought beside since returning to Earth. Everyone seemed to be having a good time...except Vegeta. He stood apart from the others and had to practically be drug into a conversation with anyone. The others were used to Vegeta being stand-offish, but Bulma could tell this was different.

What bothered her most was his lack of interest in her. It had been years since she was pregnant with Trunks, and she was proud of herself for getting her figure back. Earlier, their lovemaking had been passionate and exhaustive. They'd been able to please each other for hours on end. Then, as Vegeta's appetite for food diminished, so did his appetite for her. Before his first night out, nearly a month had gone by without so much as a good night kiss.

Then one evening, while Bulma was cooking supper, Vegeta came in from the gravity chamber. His appearance shocked her so much, she dropped the pan of sauce she was carrying onto the floor.

His eyes were bloodshot and dark half-circles sat under them. His skin was drawn taught over his sharp cheekbones and was a waxy white she'd never seen before on a live person. As he shuffled across the room, it looked as if he had no energy left to even lift his feet off the ground.

Bulma ran to him and tried to get him to sit down. Vegeta only raised one arm to warn her away. She wanted to feel his forehead for a fever, but his deadly glare told her he didn't want to be touched, even by her. He glanced over to her meal preparations and swallowed hard as if sick to his stomach.

"Don't bother," he told her in a rough, gravelly voice. "I'm not hungry."

"But Vegeta," she argued, "you have to eat something! Just look at you! You're wasting away!"

Vegeta looked at Bulma as if unable to comprehend what she was saying. Slowly, he turned his head to look at his image reflected in the glass door. With the dark night on the other side of the glass, his white face shone all the more eerily.

"You're right," he mumbled before gently pushing her out of his way and leaving the room. Bulma wasn't sure what he was agreeing with...the need to eat or his appearance.

After she'd cleaned the mess in the kitchen, she went to check on Vegeta. She was determined to at least get him to swallow a vitamin capsule and take a sleeping pill. Maybe a night of sleep instead of pacing would put him on the right track. But Vegeta was nowhere to be found.

In a panic, she called the Capsule Corp. security office and asked them to check the perimeter cameras. They confirmed Vegeta had, indeed, flown off just minutes earlier. She thanked them and ordered to be alerted the instant he was seen returning...no matter how late it was.

The hours dragged on and on for Bulma that night. She paced. She tried to concentrate on schematics. She flipped through television channels, not even registering what she was seeing. The only thing stopping her from calling one of the other fighters to go out to look for him was the knowledge of what they would say.

'Hopefully he's gone for good. Good riddance, I say.'

She knew she could never explain how worried she was about him. They all considered him a nuisance at best...the devil himself at worst. Instead of helping her find him, they would rejoice in his absence.

The buzzing of the intercom startled her awake. For a moment she was disoriented. She hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep and had no idea what time it was.

She stumbled over to the speaker and pressed the voice button.

"What is it?" she said, fighting to hold back a yawn.

"Um...Ms. Briefs...you wanted to know when Mr. Vegeta...returned?" The guard sounded hesitant. Bulma figured he must be new. They always sounded that way when they saw Vegeta fly over the grounds for the first time.

"Yes. Thank you," Bulma said, suddenly awake. She switched the intercom off and ran for the door.

Bulma threw open the door just as Vegeta was reaching for the handle. Surprised to see her right there waiting for him, he took a step back.

"What are you doing up this late?" he asked suspiciously. With the night shadows hiding his face, Bulma couldn't see if he was still sick or not, but he certainly sounded normal.

"I was worried about you!" she said, exasperated by his casual tone. "You come in looking like you're on death's door, then fly off without so much as a good-bye or a note or anything!"

In the shadows, Vegeta scrubbed his mouth with one hand, then ran it along the back of his neck. He paused before taking a step into the light of the doorway. Relief flooded through Bulma.

"As you can see," he said with his old smirk, "I'm fine."

Bulma wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, but Vegeta predicted her thoughts and held her gently at arm's length.

"It's late and you're tired," he said in a low, soft voice that always made Bulma's blood heat. "Why don't you go get ready for bed. I'll just take a quick shower."

* * *

Bulma shook her head. ChiChi had to be wrong. If he were seeing another woman, he would be more distant when he got back...not more attentive. Wouldn't he?

He'd been going out on his night excursions once every week. Each time before he left, he would look tired and withdrawn. Each time he returned, he was...well...rejuvenated.

She thought again about whether or not she should question him further about his nights. He never seemed to want to talk about it when she mentioned it before, but she could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. The question was...did she really want to know the truth? What would she do if she didn't like the answer she would surely have to drag out of him?

Vegeta was restless again tonight. She could see him pace back and forth in the hallway outside their bedroom. His head was lowered as if he were either in deep thought or deeply troubled by something. She knew he would toss and turn all night tonight...and would be going out tomorrow night. Should she press him for answers tonight? Tomorrow? When he returned?

Or should she forget the whole thing and trust her husband?

When Vegeta finally came to bed, Bulma pretended to be asleep. She waited until his breathing deepened and she felt him relax. Then she raised up on one elbow and watched him. His brow was furrowed and there was a twitch in his jaw muscle. He looked like he was in physical pain.

Bulma chewed her bottom lip as she worried. Careful not to bother him, she gently touched his forehead, expecting it to be feverish. It was ice cold! Cold and clammy! She snapped her hand back as if she had just been bitten. What was wrong with Vegeta?

* * *

Vegeta went through the motions of his training regiment, but his mind was elsewhere. He knew he'd have to leave Bulma again tonight. He hated doing it, but he couldn't seem to stop either. What started out to be a one time thing quickly became an addiction. A necessity. Almost an obsession.

Bulma was beginning to suspect something. He could understand why. It was only natural for her to be concerned about him. He thought it was a waste of time, but was used to it by now.

He fought so hard against it all week, it took a toll on his physical, as well as mental, well-being. When he could deny himself no longer, he had to admit defeat and give in to it. His need outweighing his guilt every time. His consolation being that afterward he was able to feel normal and once again devote all his energies toward his training...and his wife.

"Computer. Lower to one times gravity," Vegeta ordered.

Even though his training time wasn't even half over, he could stand it no longer. There were too many demons in his head to continue the same old routine. Instead, he paced back and forth within the gravity chamber alternately looking forward to nightfall and dreading it. While he waited, he ran through his plans over and over to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

He had an extra pair of clothes hidden in an old hollow tree. That way Bulma wouldn't find any traces of what he'd been doing...like when she discovered the spot on his shirt. He would stop there on the way and change.

He would have to keep to the forest until he came to the edge of town so he wouldn't be seen. Sooner or later Bulma would think to have him followed. Unless she talked one of the other fighters into doing it, which he doubted would happen, he was certain he could elude any followers.

After, he'd go down to the river and take a quick dip while he flew over it. The first night he'd been lucky he was able to keep Bulma at arm's length. He'd been able to get in the shower without her noticing anything unusual. Now he made sure to wash any evidence off before returning home.

Once he was clean and redressed, he'd race back to Bulma's waiting arms - the demons exorcised once more. He'd feel normal once again...for a while at least.

He stopped his pacing and looked down at his hands. They were shaking. Anxious to get going, Vegeta shut down the chamber and headed into the house. Bulma was sitting in a chair near the door, waiting for him. He tried to get passed her, but she held her ground.

"Vegeta, I want to talk to you." Her calm voice got his attention. He was used to her yelling moods and her worry moods, but this was different. She was dead serious!

"What?" he asked, even though he already knew what was on her mind.

"I need to know where you go whenever you take off at night."

"No. You don't," he said and again tried to get by her. She held out a hand and grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"Vegeta."

The pained look in her eyes tore at his heart. She did deserve some sort of explanation, but he knew she wouldn't like it.

"Are you seeing another woman?" she blurted out.

"What in the world gave you that idea?" he laughed. His shocked expression helped to ease her fears, and the laugh made her feel silly for even thinking such a thing. To Vegeta, the laugh was out of pure relief. He'd been so afraid that she would guess his secret, he never saw it from her point of view.

"But if it isn't a woman...where do you go?" she asked again, now slightly embarrassed for doubting his feelings for her.

"I just need to get out every now and then," Vegeta said calmly, looking Bulma straight in the eyes. "I'm just not used to being cooped up like this, you know. Without anyone to fight, I'm beginning to feel caged." Without any further explanations, he walked out of the room. She let him go.

Bulma let out a sigh of relief. She thought she was beginning to understand him now. He was just a warrior without anywhere to go or anyone to fight. It was like taking a mighty tiger from the jungle and putting him in a zoo.

"Well," she thought. "At least I know he isn't having an affair with another woman! He just needs to get out every now and then to release some pent up energy. And since he always comes back feeling better, who am I to question what he does?"

* * *

The night was clear and cool as he neared the edge of town. He thought back to Bulma's accusation and smiled. The thought that he was seeing another woman was ridiculous. To let her continue thinking that would've thrown her off his track, but it also would've hurt her more than Vegeta was willing to do.

She'd even seen him off this time with a sad smile and a kiss. He reassured her everything was fine and he'd be his old self again when he returned. She told him she trusted him and waved as he flew off.

Vegeta heaved a deep sigh. Hopefully Bulma would be satisfied enough not to bother investigating further. At least for a while. Maybe, in time, he'd be able to leave this addiction and guilt behind him.

But it wasn't going to be tonight. No, tonight was his! Adrenaline pulsed through his veins at the mere thought of his impending night adventures. He licked his lips, already tasting the sweet nectar to come.

Vegeta landed softly on top of a crumbling building. His black clothes blended in perfectly with the dark sky. The lack of street lights helped him even further. He crouched and waited patiently, ears cocked for the sounds inside the building.

This was his favorite part of town. It was teeming with the dregs of society - gang members, prostitutes, drug dealers, murderers and rapists. His kind of people. He'd spent enough time here to know them not only by sight, but by sound. And the one he was waiting for was on the fourth floor corner room.

He waited patiently, listening to the conversation the drug dealer was having with his clients. He was blackmailing them for more money, and threatening to kill their families if they couldn't meet his demands. Vegeta leaned back and smiled. This man was truly evil. A man after his own heart.

Finally, the others left and the drug dealer walked out of the building - alone. Vegeta floated over the street high above him, waiting until just the right moment to land. He had to be sure no one saw him. He didn't care what people thought of him, but he had to protect Bulma, Trunks, and the Capsule Corp.

The drug dealer noticed a lone woman coming down the street and quickly ducked into a dark stairwell. Vegeta paused, making sure neither could see him.

"Interesting," he thought to himself. "This night just keeps getting better and better!"

As the woman passed the stairwell, the man leaped from his hiding spot and grabbed her. One hand was firmly planted over her mouth, the other around her waist. He pulled her back into a dark, deserted alley and threw her up against the wall. Her head struck the hard brick and she crumpled to the ground.

Vegeta soared down and snatched the drug dealer off the unconscious woman's body, carrying him into the air. When the man took a breath to scream, Vegeta reached down and crushed his voice box, careful to leave his carotid artery intact.

Unable to call for help, the man struggled against Vegeta's strong grip. It was no use. The Saiyan's hand was like an iron band on his arm. When he tried to scratch at him, Vegeta crushed his hand to a meaty pulp. There was nothing the man could do except wait until they landed and hope there would be some chance of escape.

Vegeta flew into the dense mountain forest and landed under the cover of trees and rocky outcroppings. With a casual flick of his wrist, he threw the man against a boulder. The snap of broken spine was muffled by the thick leaves and lush vegetation. He walked over to the still breathing lump of flesh and squatted down beside him.

"Let me tell you a story," Vegeta said conversationally.

The man's eyes were wide and his mouth opened and shut like a fish, yet no sound came out. Vegeta nodded and smiled, happy the man was still conscious and listening.

"Once there was a great kingdom of powerful warriors," he began, a wistful look on his face. "One day, the prince was taken from this kingdom and became the slave of a madman."

The drug dealer's eyes began to gloss over and Vegeta reached down to drag the man into a sitting position. The pain of his grinding bones brought him back to focus on the dark Saiyan.

"Now, this madman made the prince live like an animal. He was ordered to kill entire races of people. To survive, he ate what he killed." Vegeta paused, a slight smile on his lips as he remembered his younger days of purging planets. "You may think this was a barbaric thing to do. But when you're hungry, you have to eat."

The man's mouth flapped open and shut as his brain registered what he was being told. He tried to shake his head, but found his neck wouldn't work. He realized he was paralyzed with absolutely no hope of surviving this night.

"The funny thing is," Vegeta continued, "that something that seems repulsive when forced to do it, can actually become enjoyable. A craving. Almost a physical necessity that cannot be overlooked."

Vegeta reached over and pulled the man's arm off as easily as a cooked turkey leg. The man, luckily, couldn't feel it, but tried to scream anyway. Only a weak whisper came out of his mouth as Vegeta removed the ripped shirt sleeve and sank his teeth into the fleshy upper arm. A look of ecstasy came over his face as he savored his meal, a small dribble of blood shining on his chin.

"The only regret I have is that I'm not able to choose the best of prey. I have to settle for people like you. Those no one would ever miss. I owe that much to my family, at least."

Vegeta noticed the man had finally stopped breathing. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued his meal of flesh and blood until there was nothing left but cloth and bone. Even the internal organs were a delicacy worth savoring.

Even though the entire episode lasted only a couple of hours, Vegeta was anxious to return to Bulma. He felt full and strong once again, and his mind was clear and satisfied. Guilt would settle in tomorrow, but it had been a good night and a good meal.

He blasted the remains into ashes and set off for the river. Within ten minutes, he was back home.

Bulma stirred as Vegeta climbed into bed next to her. She looked over at him and smiled. He was back to normal, looking very healthy and strong. He smiled back at her and ran his fingers down her bare arm.

"Have a good night?" she asked and snuggled closer to him.

"Very good," he answered and pulled her beneath him.

As they kissed, Bulma thought, "I'm going to have to ask him what he eats when he goes out. He sure tastes good!"


End file.
